


movement

by cashtonkink



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types, Call Me by Your Name - André Aciman
Genre: Cock Worship, Dirty Dancing, M/M, Oral Sex, excessive confidence, gay power struggle, that damn elio
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-16 01:12:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18084545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cashtonkink/pseuds/cashtonkink
Summary: move like grey skies, move like a bird of paradise, move like an odd sight come out at night.





	movement

**Author's Note:**

> just something small while i try to get out of this dumb writer's block that has a small hold on me 
> 
> this takes place on one of the first nights oliver is awake and alert at the perlman's residence (specifically the club the locals frequent)
> 
> oliver is bold which is not a personality trait he usually has, but let's just pretend for my sake
> 
> non-con if you squint. don't squint. enjoy.

_i still watch you when you're grooving, as if through water from the bottom of a pool_

elio loved to dance. to move. to pick up his heels as if to run away, but stay in place. not even the presence of the american (l'americano) disturbed elio as he twirled marzia, his "friend," to his heart's content (he didn't mean to put it in quotation marks, but they had sex quite a lot, and friends didn't usually do that). more specifically, the presence of l'americano's eyes as they raked elio's body, how the pupils dilated every time a slither of skin made itself known in the frenzy of the younger boy's limbs. he had to admit it; oliver was hot. this was a fact absolutely none of his friends disputed. but you know what none of his friends, especially marzia, disputed as well? that elio was hotter. so, just for that observation, he moved _dirtier_. his hips swiveled, he raised his arms higher than usual, exposing his briefs and naked torso. he dipped marzia and licked down her neck to her chest, throwing a cautionary glance at oliver, who looked an odd mix of aroused and agitated. elio even grinded a bit on one of his friends, and he was about to really get into things he'd only dreamed of on the dance floor when marzia leaned over to say "oliver se n'è appena andato, elio!" elio was stunned. "he left?"

all marzia could do was nod. elio stopped dancing, and went home.

_you're moving without moving, and when you move, i'm moved_

the next day, elio was getting ready to go back down to the club, when he received a knock at his door. elio opened the door to see oliver, looking better than he ever had. before he could say anything, oliver gripped his shoulders, turned his body around against the door, and grinded his dick into elio once. just once. he let go of elio, who's shocked frame remained plastered and hard against the door. "this shit you're pulling? stops as of tonight. you know what you want. don't ruin it by having no self control." elio watched as oliver opened the door, flinging elio backwards with the force of it all. elio sighed, realizing he was going to have to fix his hair. l'americano would not be getting his wish. who did he think he was? any other ugly, simple girl would've complied happily, but elio was not such a person. oliver peers at his inviting frame all night, sits there, and then leaves when elio gives up on him? elio is a treasure. oliver was just a pursuer (inseguitore). he had no say in what elio did while dancing. stupid american.

_you are a call to motion; there, all of you a verb in perfect view. like jonah on the ocean, when you move, i'm moved_

that night, elio _partied._ he blatantly looked oliver in the face numerous times as he went from man to man, grinding, hanging off of them, and retaining the closeness oliver had forbidden for the younger man. if a man wasn't interested, he went to the next one. but he never went to oliver. his cologne hung off every man and woman in that club, and elio would have had it no other way. everyone was elio's. and elio was not oliver's. he didn't even dignify oliver leaving early again with a reaction.

_when you move, i'm put to mind of all that i wanna be; when you move, i could never define all that you are to me_

it went like that for a couple of days, if elio was being honest. he was, frankly, pissed. and it didn't die down. if elio had let it, he would let it simmer all summer. but after a while, he decided that oliver did not have the adequate amount of respect for elio. so, on the fifth day of his oliver-flavored tantrum, in his dancing haze, he grabbed oliver and dragged him to the dancing floor. the pliability of the older man said anything elio needed to hear. he immediately turned around, subtly swiveling his hips and ass over oliver's hard dick. he was bunting now, to use a very american analogy. hitting pop flies. soft line drives to first base. he turned around, snaking his arms around oliver's neck, looking him dead in his eyes, and pressing his erect member right to oliver's thigh, letting out a whine so soft, only oliver could make out the outline of what came from the younger boy's throat. he was gaining momentum now, oliver's poker face shattering slowly under the weight of arousal and friction. elio turned back around, bent all the way down, touched his toes, and slowly returned to a place of uprightness all while maintaining oliver's dick in between his asscheeks. 

and when he turned around, feeling oliver's eyes on his lips and hands on his hips, he knew he'd hit a home run.

_so move me, baby; shake like the bough of a willow tree_

oliver went home early again, but not without elio under his arm. elio's plan had been put into motion and completed a while ago; he was just in it to break the older man's opinion of him. elio perlman was not pliable, and he needed no one. oliver was lucky to be the pitcher that pitched elio's home run. when they got into elio's makeshift room, elio made this known. "i know what you want, inseguitore." oliver's confused look only served to motivate elio more. elio took off his shirt, and led oliver's rough hands to rub him down. he stopped oliver's hands at his zipper.

"if you want to touch my zipper, you're promising to suck my cock. worship it. admit that you need me, and it's not the other way around. get on your knees."

oliver began to kneel, but stopped short. "and if i don't?"

elio stayed stone-faced, confident. "you can get out." 

oliver laughed, before realizing the connotation that his sentence held. he began to protest, before elio grabbed him under his jaw. "what will it be, cagna?"

oliver completely removed his spine, kneeling on the ground, kissing the younger man's zipper; elio even noticed his hands behind his back. he took a bandana from his bed, and tied his hands behind him, all the while keeping oliver's face squarely in his crotch. "when i take these off, i want you to worship my thighs. my cock. my balls. and i'm going to cum in your mouth. and you're going to swallow it all. and open your mouth when you're done. don't ruin it by having no self-control." oliver deflated, humiliated (but not un-aroused) by having his own words thrown at him. he just nodded.

_you do it naturally, move me, baby_

as soon as his jean shorts and briefs were off, oliver buried his face in elio's crotch. he kissed up and down elio's thighs, all while elio fisted his hair. he took elio's balls in his mouth, licking and sucking gently, occasionally grazing them lightly with his teeth, the only thing left he could do to maintain some power. he'd given it all to the younger boy. elio slapped oliver in his face with his hard dick. the sound it made turned elio on even more, so he continued to do it, mocking the small whines of oliver, who was taking quite the beating. he finally instructed "mouth open, tongue out" and oliver did as he was told, closing his eyes to enhance the feeling of power elio had. he couldn't take back the power, but he could always say he added to the power he gave away. 

elio stuffed oliver's mouth and throat with his erection, and oliver swallowed it down as best as he could. elio hissed, and began to use oliver's hair against him. he slid his dick in and out of oliver's throat; slowly at first, before increasing the speed to such a degree that oliver felt a headache coming on and drool escaping his parted lips. elio moaned, babbling quietly about how much oliver was enjoying being on his knees and how much power he had over the older man. oliver guessed it was to quicken his climax. soon enough, elio slapped oliver lightly in the side of the head, and that was all the warning oliver received before elio came in his mouth. he let elio pull his cock out before he opened his mouth, elio's load hot on his tongue. elio nodded, momentarily pleased, and oliver closed his mouth and swallowed immediately. elio, though, just didn't seem fully satisfied.

"tell me how much you loved it."

oliver, spent, complied quickly. "i loved it. i love being your bitch." elio laughed, bending down and capturing oliver in a passionate, albeit brief, kiss.

"i would say abituarsi ad esso, americano."

"what does that mean, elio?" elio laughed once more, turning away and flopping on his bed.

"brush your teeth, and then ask your professor."

**Author's Note:**

> oliver se n'è appena andato = oliver just left
> 
> abituarsi ad esso, americano = get used to it, american
> 
> thx google translate xo


End file.
